


The Nanny

by Mertens



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera - Gaston Leroux, Phantom - Susan Kay, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Christine has anxiety, F/M, Falling In Love, Modern Era, Murder Mystery, Mystery, Past Character Death, Past Luciana/Erik, Romance, Slow Burn, alternate setting - USA, possible murder
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-19
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:14:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29547789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertens/pseuds/Mertens
Summary: College dropout Christine Dee lands what appears to be a dream job in taking care of a reclusive rich man’s seven year old boy. As she settles into her new life, however, she discovers a mysterious secret about her boss’s former wife that threatens to unravel everything.
Relationships: Christine Daaé/Erik | Phantom of the Opera, Erik | Phantom of the Opera/Luciana (Phantom - Susan Kay)
Comments: 41
Kudos: 79





	1. Chapter 1

Christine sighed as she stared at the glowing screen of her laptop, resting a hand over her chest and hoping her anxiety medication would kick in soon. She’d never needed it more than now. Meg leaned over her shoulder as they sat on Christine’s dorm room bed to look at the page Christine had pulled up, studying the numerous local job listings. 

“How about that one?” Meg asked, pointing to one of the listings on the screen. 

“I applied to that one last week,” Christine said, a little sheepish and sad. She didn’t want to be a skating carhop at a drive-in fast food, but the fact that the drive-in apparently didn’t want her to be one either stung more than she thought it would. 

“How about—“

“I applied to _all_ of these, Meg!” she cried, burying her face in her hands. 

And she had. She’d been applying to nearly every job she could find since she’d realized the change her future was bringing, which had happened just before midterms. It was now the week of finals, and with each potential employer who didn’t call her back she was swiftly running out of hope. 

She scrubbed her fist across her eyes, wrinkling her nose hard. 

“I don’t know,” she told Meg. “It’s just... Do you ever think, maybe he’s right?”

Meg gave her the side eye as she commandeered the laptop. 

“We’ve been over this Chrissy,” she reminded her. “He isn’t right. Job markets are just hard for everyone right now.”

Christine gazed miserably up at the ceiling, trying to believe her friend’s words. They had discussed the subject so much, they didn’t even have to bring up his name anymore to know who they were referring to, and that was a relief to Christine. She could still hear her last conversation with him so clearly, in such perfect detail. It haunted her, especially in moments like this. 

_The only reason you’ve gotten anywhere is because of me._

She tried so hard not to believe it, but on days like today, it seemed all too true. She certainly wasn’t getting anywhere on her own merits, currently. 

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” she moaned. 

“You need to eat something,” Meg said. “When was the last time you ate? You always get weird when you don’t eat.”

“You sound like a Snickers commercial,” Christine grumbled, but she went to the kitchen and grabbed a protein bar. 

By the time she returned with snack in hand, Meg had found four new jobs to apply to. 

“Dog walker, snow cone vendor, nanny, and jewelry store cashier,” Christine read off, her brow furrowing. “I don’t think dog walker is a valid career, Meg.”

“It’s better than nothing!” she protested. “And besides, I already sent them your resume.”

Meg’s cellphone at the foot of the bed lit up and buzzed, drawing Christine’s eyes. Meg grabbed it and read the text, grinning at whatever she saw. She fired off a quick message, her thumb typing faster than Christine could type on a keyboard. 

“Is that Cecile?” Christine asked, feeling guilty. 

“Yeah.”

“You guys were supposed to go to that new movie tonight, weren’t you?”

“It’s no biggie, Chris, don’t worry about it.”

“I appreciate you coming by to help me,” Christine said quietly, fiddling with the ends of her ponytail. “I know you’d much rather be out with your girlfriend than job search for your loser friend.”

Meg frowned. 

“Hey, if I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t. Besides, we all need a little help sometimes. If I can help you find a job, I will! Maybe one day you’ll repay the favor!”

“Yeah,” she said, biting at her lip. 

The days of when she’d be able to offer any help to anyone besides an ear to listen and a shoulder to cry on seemed so distant. And lately, the only one who had been doing any crying was her. She still felt guilty for having texted Meg not too long ago in the middle of a panic attack, nearly begging her to come over and tell her she wasn’t a failure. Meg, ever a good friend, had come immediately and offered to help her job search. 

She took a closer look at what Meg had applied to. The snow cone thing looked cute, though it wasn’t likely to pay very much—a job for a high school student, perhaps, during the summer, probably not something a twenty three year old could support herself on. The jewelry store likely wasn’t any better, but she was scraping the bottom of the barrel in her choices. Once the semester was over, she wouldn’t be able to stay in her dorm room anymore and motels didn’t accept _I almost had a recording deal and I can sing really well_ as a form of payment. 

She paused when she saw the listing for the nanny position. 

“Oh, Meg—you didn’t give my info to this person, did you? It looks skeevy.”

“Uh, yeah, I did. What do you mean, skeevy? There’s hardly anything on the listing.”

“That’s why it’s skeevy!” she cried, cringing. 

_Position available for immediate employment - seeking a nanny to be full time caretaker of a seven year old boy. More details will be given to those under consideration._

It looked so... foreboding. But it probably didn’t matter. It’s not like she was going to get a call back from them, anyway. 

“You can’t be picky right now, Chrissy,” she reminded her. “You have to throw everything to the wind and see where it lands.”

“Yeah I guess,” she mumbled around a bite of her protein bar. 

“You know... I can ask around on campus,” she offered. “I’m sure I could find you something.”

Christine shifted uncomfortably. 

“I want to get my job on my own,” she said at last, not meeting her eye. 

Meg didn’t push it. It killed her to see Christine so anxious about her future income, but she could still remember the night Christine had come to her after her huge fight with Raoul, how much she’d been crying from what he’d said to her, and she understood her need to be able to prove to herself that she could stand on her own two feet. 

“Well, if you ever change your mind, you just let me know.”

“Thanks Meg. For everything.”

“Anytime.”

Meg scoured three more job listing sites, applying to a handful more of positions that Christine eyed skeptically but secretly hoped she’d get. After that, Meg switched to YouTube and pulled up compilations of funny videos. A half hour later, both girls were laughing, troubles forgotten for a little while. 

“Do you want to come to dinner with me and Cecile?” Meg asked as she gathered her phone and purse, getting ready to leave. 

“No, that’s okay,” Christine said, shrugging. “I’d just be a third wheel anyway.”

“Nah, don’t feel like that! Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. Hey, thanks again. I feel a lot better now.”

Meg hugged her tightly before leaving, assuring her that she should text if she needed anything. 

Christine watched out the window as Cecile’s car pulled up in front of the dorm. Little Cecile Jammmes—so called because she stood at a towering four foot eleven inches—was in the midst of finishing up a master’s degree in choreography at a different college. She’d been dating Meg for two years now, and Christine couldn’t be happier for them. Meg was her closest friend and had been for ages—she couldn’t imagine life without the bubbly blonde ballet instructor in it, with her sharp wit and unwavering support. She and Meg had come to this college at the same time, something that Christine loved. She only wished that she hadn’t been coming here as a student while Meg was coming as a new professor. It felt awkward, sometimes, but Meg made sure she never made it that way, and Christine loved her for it. 

Cecile honked the car horn and they both waved up at Christine in the window, and Christine gave a lopsided smile and waved in return. The car drove off, leaving her alone with her thoughts. Perhaps she should have gone, but it would have felt like imposing to her. 

She spent a nerve-wracking few days on her studies for finals, alternating between stressed and apathetic—it wasn’t like there would be a next semester for her. Her scholarship had only covered two years of the four year degree, and she assumed that somewhere along the line she’d make up the rest of her tuition by working or singing or even a loan. But singers were a dime a dozen and no one would listen to her demos, work asked so much and paid so little, and the only loan she could qualify for would absolutely crush her with interest payments. She liked to tell herself that she was taking a semester or so off, and that she’d come back once she’d put away savings, but she knew that this was a pipe dream. Her college years, entered into far too late, were already over. 

She answered every call that buzzed through on her phone, breathlessly hopeful and almost always disappointed. No job offers, but plenty of scammers. After the tenth call offering her a discount on a tv service she didn’t even have, she began to wonder how much a telemarking scam paid, and if this was her possible path forward. 

She scored an interview at the jewelry place, and she brushed off her last final to make it on time. It was a little place in the mall, full of neon colors and overly cheery pop music playing. The girl interviewing her was also overly cheery, her eyeshadow full of glitter and her hair in pigtails that Christine was almost certain were mandatory for the job. Christine stifled a groan behind a fake smile as she realized she was looking at her future self. 

She spent the next forty five minutes trying to be as upbeat as possible, acting as though selling hair scrunchies and diaries with fuzzy covers to preteen girls was the career of her dreams and her life’s passion. When the interview ended and she was sent off with a _I’ll have to get back to you after I discuss it with the manager_ , Christine thanked her and wandered off aimlessly into the mall. There was nothing quite as humiliating as being throughly scrutinized for a job that paid eight dollars an hour and consisted of organizing cheap jewelry and then being found not quite up to the task. 

She stopped in front of the Cinnabon, inhaling deeply. Her stomach rumbled, but she couldn’t justify spending an inordinate amount on a giant cinnamon roll, even if it was covered in icing and pecans. 

Her phone rang. She dug it out of her messy, jumbled purse and answered it, preparing herself to be greeted by yet another robotic voice hoping to con her out of some cash. 

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Miss Christine Dee?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” she said, her heart thudding. 

The man’s voice was polite and warm and rich. 

“I’m Nadir Khan, I’m calling you in reference to the nannying job you recently applied to.”

“Yes! Yeah,” she tried not to fumble her words, gripping her phone a little tighter. 

“Your resume intrigued me, and I’d like to set up an in-person interview with you.”

“Definitely! I’m free—“ she looked at watch for no reason, “—I’m free anytime. Just me know.”

She scrambled to get a scrap of paper and pen out of her purse, writing down the date and location of the interview. 

“Thank you so much,” she breathed. 

“Of course, Christine,” Nadir said, and she could practically hear his smile through the phone. 

She hung up and turned back to the Cinnabon, deciding to treat herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Her interview took place in Nadir’s office, who tuned out to be a lawyer—and by the looks of it, a very rich one. She felt slightly out of place as she eyed the bookshelves and art on the dark teal walls, hoping that her own clothing didn’t seem too shabby in comparison. 

Nadir was a handsome man, in his late thirties or perhaps early forties, his dark hair shot through with streaks of dignified silver. His eyes were an almost unsettling shade of bright jade, which she realized were colored contact lenses. 

He greeted her warmly with a handshake and ushered her in to sit in a large chair made of stuffed dark red leather. She sat nervously, taking a brief second to smooth out her skirt. 

“Tell me about yourself, Christine,” Nadir said with a smile. 

She smiled nervously. 

“Um, well—what would you like to know?” 

“Anything.” He shrugged a little. “Everything.”

She chewed on her lip. 

“I... I was born in Montana. Um, I moved to Nashville when I was nineteen. And then I moved here about a year later.”

“That’s a lot of moving. What brought you from there to here?”

“Work,” she said quickly, and it wasn’t a lie. “And then college, when I came here.”

“What was your major?”

“Teaching, actually.”

“Oh? Teaching what?”

She dug the toe of her little shoe into the plush carpet on the floor. 

“Singing. I wanted to teach singing.”

“You are a singer?” he asked curiously, tilting his head. 

“Um, yeah, kinda. Anyway, I was hoping to teach kids to sing, maybe as like a music teacher in a school or a private lessons type thing. But, uh, I didn’t—I didn’t finish my degree.”

“Why not?”

From anyone else, it would have sounded like an accusation, but Nadir managed make it sound compassionate. 

“I ran out of money,” she said sheepishly. 

He nodded understandingly. 

“Tuition is steep these days,” he agreed. “Do you like animals?”

“I love animals.”

“What was the last book you read?”

“My history textbook.”

He chuckled. 

“What was the last book you read for fun?”

“Uh, _Authority_ by VanderMeer.”

“That’s the second in a trilogy, isn’t it?”

The tension went out of her shoulders.

“Yeah.”

“Why do you want this job, Christine?”

She paused, considering. There was something very disarming about him, something that made him feel like a friend even though he was a stranger.

“Can I be very honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“I want this job because I need money. That doesn’t make me terrible, does it? We all need money to live. It... it wasn’t a job that caught my eye at first, but I promise that I work hard no matter what my job is. And I know that this isn’t some thing where I stand behind a counter and greet customers or where I take notes on a meeting—this is a person depending on me, and if I got this job, I would take my job of caring for him very seriously. I mean, this a kid. It’d be pretty fucked up if I didn’t.”

She paused. 

“Sorry. I promise I won’t say _fuck_ in front of him, I’m sorry.”

Nadir stared blankly at her for a moment then burst out laughing. 

“Well, that’s certainly honest of you!”

She let go of the breath she was holding. 

“What experience do you have with children?” he asked. 

“I used to babysit a lot for my neighbors when I was a teen,” she offered. “Oh, and I helped my friend Meg when she did this summer camp thing at her mom’s ballet studio. We watched the kids all day and did crafts and ballet and watched movies.”

“How do you feel about watching the same movie over and over?” He asked with a grin. 

“I can get used to it,” she said, a slight smile forming on her lips. 

“How do you handle in emergencies?”

“I think I do okay,” she said, looking down at her fidgeting hands. “I’m quick with a call to 911.”

“Are you very squeamish?”

“Uh... not _very_. I mean, I know kids are gross sometimes. I’m fine with that.”

“Hmm,” he said, looking thoughtful. 

“How much does it pay?” 

Her question lingered in the air and she regretted it, but she felt it only fair to ask a question of her own after all of his. She only wished it had been a better one. 

“Ah, Miss Dee,” he chuckled. “I assure you that will not be a problem.”

She ducked her head, her face turning scarlet. 

“It’s just, I’ll have bills to pay, you know,” she tried to excuse herself. “Housing isn’t cheap.”

“This is an on-location job,” he explained. “You would be living in the house you work at.”

“Oh.” She blinked, letting the words sink in. 

“Would you be okay with that? It’s a full time job, and you’d be mostly on call, as it were, all day and all night, every day. But you’ll have set days off, of your own choosing, provided they don’t conflict with any of the boy’s scheduling.”

“I guess I could do that.”

“How do you feel about housework?”

“I’m a pretty tidy person. I don’t mind cleaning.”

“Do you drive, Miss Dee?”

“I have my license, but not a car.”

She squeezed her hands into fists under the desk, certain that this would be the deal breaker.

“Not a problem. Are you usually as punctual as you were today?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you ever had traffic violations? Tickets? Are you a generally safe driver?”

“No, never. I’m very cautious when driving.”

“Tell me about your own family life.”

She hesitated. 

“My mom passed on when I was six, and my dad passed on when I was seventeen. I don’t really have much family other than that. But—I have my friend, Meg. She’s like a sister to me, and her mom is always so nice, too. I consider them my family.”

He nodded, sympathetic. 

“Do you cook?”

“Yeah, I think I do okay.”

“In the spirit of honesty, such as you showed a little while ago, I’m going to frank with you—you sound like an exceptional match.”

“Oh,” she breathed. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I’ll need you to fill out this form for a background check first, and then you’ll need to take a drug test as well. Barring we don’t find anything too terrible, you’ll come back up here and we can fill out your contract and you’ll get started right away.”

“That sounds good to me!”

“Would you object to taking the drug test today?”

“Not at all. Hopefully you don’t mind beta blockers,” she joked. 

“Here’s your form,” he handed her a paper and a pen. 

She bit her lip as she looked at the boxes to fill out on the paper for her background check. 

“Um, there is one thing,” she said hesitantly. 

“Yes?”

“This needs my full name to work, doesn’t it? My real name.”

“Ah. It does.”

“But no one really sees it, do they? Like, just us.”

“Just us,” he agreed. “Is there a problem?”

“No, not really. It’s just—well, my last name isn’t Dee, that’s all. I don’t think you’ll find me under that name.”

She wrote _Daaé_ in the box, feeling melancholy about it. 

“I’m not ashamed of my name,” she said, feeling the strange need to justify it. “It’s just—I changed it. That’s all.”

“It’s okay,” he said, not pressing her for more information. 

She filled out the rest silently. As she handed it back to him and took the order for the drug test in exchange, she happened to notice a framed photo on his desk. In it, there was a smiling woman in a headscarf and a young boy who looked to be about six years old standing next to Nadir in a garden. Christine smiled. 

“Oh, is this your boy?” She gestured go to the photo, and Nadir smiled. 

“It is. Reza. He’s a handful, but I love him.”

“I look forward to working with him,” she said, smiling. 

“Oh!” Nadir’s eyebrows flew up. “You’re not nannying for Reza—you’re going to be Charles’s nanny.”

Her smile faded slightly in her surprise. 

“Oh. Is he your other son?”

“No, he’s Erik’s son.”

“Oh. Okay.”

She wanted to ask who Erik was, but he seemed intent on ending the interview. 

“That order is good at any walk-in clinic,” he told her. “They’ll send me the results, and it’ll be a few days before the background check comes back. I’ll give you a call when everything is ready, okay?”

“Okay.”

She was still a little dazed as she left his office, pausing outside to order an Uber to take her to the clinic. She texted Meg as she was waiting. 

**I think I got a job. That skeevy nanny one**

She still didn’t know who Erik was, or why Nadir conducting an interview for him, but she was looking forward to the prospect of having a steady job. 

It was nearly agonizing to wait the handful of days for Nadir to contact her. Unable to stay on campus, she had to move out of her dorm and crash on Meg’s couch, feeling awkward in the tiny apartment shared by her and Cecile. She swore she’d pay Meg back for the food she ate, but Meg only waved it off and laughed. 

That first night on Meg’s couch was lonely. The girls had stayed up with her and watched two movies, but eventually they had retired to the bedroom, together, while Christine stayed on the couch, alone. 

It seemed like that was how it always was. 

She admired how easily it came to Meg, how confidently she’d gone up to Cecile, a perfect stranger, at a dance competition and given her her phone number and an overly saccharine compliment and/or come-on. It had seemed so bizarre, but it had worked. Things like that never worked for Christine. Boys had never really noticed her in middle school, and had actively avoided her in high school. She’d found a few boys to date here and there after high school, but all of them ended up ghosting her fairly quickly. She was lucky to get to a week of texting, or to a second date. There had been no third dates for Christine Dee. 

Her phone glowed with an incoming text. 

**hey**

Of course. There, in one of her lowest moments, was Raoul. Of course. 

She looked away, trying to ignore it. She hadn’t said anything to Meg, but Raoul had been texting her every few months ever since their huge fight. As far as Meg knew, they hadn’t spoken again. She felt crummy keeping it from her, but she wasn’t lying, not really. It wasn’t like she had asked if they still texted. 

**R: any plans for next semester?**

She grabbed the phone. She didn’t know which was lower—him texting her and pretending everything was fine, or the fact that she usually responded. 

**I just got a new job. I’m going to be a nanny. Pays really well**

She wanted to ignore him, but she _had_ to let him know she was doing just fine all on her own. She had to. It was that desperate, groveling attempt to gain his approval that she wanted to hide from Meg. She wanted to think she was better than that, she wanted her friend to think she was better than that. She wasn’t. 

**R: oh? For who**

She wrinkled her nose at the text. 

**R: are you taking classes too**

She felt a sinking feeling at that message, still not certain what to say. 

**I’m saving up** , she sent. 

**R: yeah i heard you hadn’t signed up for next semester**

Had she been less sad, she might have wondered for a little longer at just who had told him this. 

**This is a great opportunity for me.**

She sent her message and then stared at the little dancing bubbles that popped up and disappeared over and over as he typed and deleted and typed again. 

**R: i miss u**

Her breath caught in her throat at his message. She would be lying to say she’d never missed him too, but in her less pensive states she could recognize that thing she missed had never really existed in the first place. The realization did little to ease the ache of nostalgia. 

**We should talk more. Later. I was getting ready for bed.**

She missed being his friend, but it seemed every time he swooped in and she didn’t immediately fall into his bed, he disappeared out of her life for weeks at a time, only to try again later. 

**R: where r u staying**

She raised an eyebrow. No. No thank you. 

**Goodnight Raoul**

He sent a ‘goodnight’ with a kissy face emoji and she groaned. She might be down on her luck, but she’d never stoop so low as to find herself turning to him for anything. 

She felt a little guilty for saying she had the job when it hadn’t been confirmed yet. She didn’t even know who her boss would be. But she would never, never let Raoul see her struggle. Ever. 

Two days later, after the creeping dread began to set in that she hadn’t gotten the job after all and she’d have to live on Meg’s couch for the next fifty years, her phone rang. 

“Christine,” Nadir greeted her. “Congratulations, you’re hired!”

“Oh my goodness—thank you! I can’t wait to start!”

“Come by my office tomorrow first thing. We’ll finish your paperwork and then get you set up at the house.”

“Great, thank you!”

She hung up and leaped off the couch, squealing as she ran to tell Meg the good news. In a flurry she packed up all her belongings, wanting to be ready to go. She could scarcely sleep that night, too excited for what the next day might bring. 

As the Uber dropped her off at Nadir’s office, anxiety began to kick in. When she sat down at his desk and saw she was supposed to sign a non-disclosure agreement, anxiety spiked. 

She looked up at him, confused. 

“It’s standard,” he assured her. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Erik likes his privacy, you see. He’s a bit of a public figure, and you’ll be living with him, getting to see him at all hours and taking care of his child. He simply doesn’t want any gossip getting out, especially considering there’s a child involved. All it means is that you don’t discuss anything of their private lives with others. That’s not too much to ask, is it?”

She furrowed her brow, reading the contract again. 

“You can end your contract at any time, Christine,” he said gently. “This isn’t here to make you uncomfortable, but it does extend to even after you cease working for him. Privacy for him and the boy, that’s all. But if at any time you feel this job isn’t the right match for you, you can leave without any repercussions. Of course, Erik reserves the right to terminate your contract with him at any time as well, for any reason.”

She nodded, signing the paper with a shaky, sweaty hand, feeling like she was signing her life away somehow. She glanced up at him after it was done, and he smiled widely. 

“Ah, excellent! Let’s get done to business, shall we?”

“Yeah.”

“Just sign your contract here—I’ll explain your job duties on the way over. I noticed you came in an Uber? No matter, Erik will buy you a car.”

She almost laughed, but realized he wasn’t joking. Her eyes widened. 

“I assume you’re staying with a friend? I thought I could drive you to Erik’s with your luggage and get you settled, and by then it’ll be time to pick up Charles from school. Does that sound okay?”

“Sure,” she said nervously, following him to the door. 

They engaged in small talk on the way to Meg’s, and she found him a humorous and exceedingly kind man who could talk both pop culture and world politics with equal ease. Once they arrived he politely greeted Meg and Cecile and then helped Christine carry her suitcases out to the car. She hugged her friends tightly and bid goodbye to them, promising to text and thanking them for letting her stay with them. 

She watched out the window as the car took her away from the life she’d known and into the future where everything was new and different. 

“Charles is seven, as you know,” he told her as he drove. “He’s a very quiet boy, very shy. It might take him a bit to warm up to you. He’s not a very picky eater, but he does love pasta. You won’t be expected to cook every meal, but maybe once a day, and help him get a snack if he needs it. Erik orders a lot of delivery, but if you prefer to cook I’m sure he’ll eat that instead.”

She nodded, thinking it almost sounded like she was Erik’s nanny, too. 

“You’ll drive Charles to the bus stop every morning, and each afternoon you’ll pick him up at school. He sees a therapist twice a week, Tuesdays and Fridays, an hour after school, so he’ll need a snack ready for him in the car on those days. You don’t have to sit in the waiting room if you don’t want to, but please be sure you pick him up on time after his therapy appointments.”

“Uh huh.”

She wondered, briefly, what might make a seven year old need twice weekly therapy, but she didn’t press the issue. 

“He has weekly get-togethers with a few friends, so you’ll take him to those, too. The arcade, the movies, the park, that kind of stuff. You won’t be expected to clean the entire house—there’s a cleaning company that comes in once a week to clean everything—but you will be expected to do light housework—sweep up if something spills, vacuum if it’s needed, laundry if Erik doesn’t get to it, and of course dishes every day. Grocery shopping will be up to you as well. You can consider yourself a part of the family, though—his house is your house, so feel free to make use of it. You’ll have your own bedroom and bathroom and a closet, and there’s no stipulations on you being in the kitchen or living room at any hour. It’s good if you like midnight snacks and cable tv, provided you keep the volume down.”

He chuckled and she managed a small laugh through her nerves. 

“If you need time off, just ask Erik. He’s not unreasonable, and as long as it doesn’t conflict with something for Charles, he’ll be fine with it. If you need off for an emergency, that’s fine too. That brings us to the matter of payment.”

He paused, and Christine held her breath. 

“You’ll get a thousand a week in salary. Direct deposit into your checking. You’ll receive a credit card from Erik that is to be used for all Charles-related expenses—buying food, taking him to the arcade, paying for gas, all that. Erik will cover the cost of any healthcare you need, no questions asked.”

“Damn,” Christine breathed. 

“As mentioned in your contract, you—or he—can end the arrangement at any time, and should that happen either way, you’ll be given two months severance pay. Erik will want you to be certified in CPR and first aid, so we’ll arrange that class for you and cover the expenses.”

Her mind was still reeling. This felt almost too good to be true. 

“Now, Christine—this part is important,” he said, his expression turning somber. 

She nodded, trying to focus on his words. 

“Under no circumstances are you to mention, bring up, ask about, or make reference to Charles’s mother. Do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” she squeaked. 

“Not in any way. Not to Erik, not around Erik, not anything that will make its way back to Erik. Charles might mention his mother, but you are to not question him on the subject or push for any follow up regardless of if he brings it up.”

“O-okay.”

“Erik does not drive, so don’t expect him to. If anyone needs to get anywhere, it’s you or a taxi.”

“Mm.”

They were now off of the main roads, following a small, winding road lined with trees and bushes. This, combined with the sudden loss of warmth in Nadir’s tone, only served to unsettle her. 

“You can go anywhere you like in the house, but certain rooms will be off limits. Erik will show you which. He doesn’t like other people in either of his offices.”

He glanced over at her, at her wide eyes and mouth set in a straight line. Her shoulders were stiff. 

“I’ve been Erik’s lawyer and his friend for a very long time now,” he said softly. “He’s not a bad man, Christine. He’s very—he’s not very personable at first. He’s a little aloof. But don’t take it personally. He’s a good man, deep down.”

She wondered just deep down one had to go, based on all this. 

“I’m confident that this will work out well,” he added. 

They came up to some huge bushes of rhododendrons, big red bunches of flowers on dark green hedges on either side of the road, and once they got through them, the house was visible. 

There was a wrought iron gate surrounding it, and Nadir pressed a button on a small device to open the gate. The lawn was neatly manicured, flowers and shrubs adding decoration to the modern-looking architecture of the house itself. Two stories tall, it seemed to sprawl across the property. 

She ducked in a breath, realizing she was going to live here now. 

Nadir was quiet as he pulled the car up on the circular drive in front of the house. He parked and turned the engine off, squeezing his hands on the steering wheel for a moment. 

“Christine,” he said, staring at his hands and not making eye contact. “There’s something else I have to tell you about Erik.”


	3. Chapter 3

Christine’s blood was pounding in her ears, her throat gone dry. Nadir was clearly struggling to find the words to tell her whatever it was that needed to be said. 

“Erik was in an accident,” he said finally, addressing his hands on the steering wheel. “There was—damage. He wears a mask for this reason. Christine, it is of the utmost importance that you do not _gawk_ at his mask, nor should you make any mention of it whatsoever.”

She gave a long exhale, his previous question about her squeamishness coming back to her. 

“Is it—is it very bad, then?” she asked in a small voice, squeezing her hands tightly on the hem of her pleated skirt. 

Nadir paused, considering. 

“You can barely see any of it with the mask on,” he said at last. “He won’t take it off around you, I assure you. He’s very sensitive about it. Just pretend it isn’t there.”

She nodded tightly, feeling like she might puke at any minute. She careened out of the car, looking up at the massive house with dread. Horrible visions came into her head of what her new boss might look like, old horror movies she’d secretly watched on tv way past her bedtime when her father was asleep, movies that kept her from sleeping for weeks. 

Then came the guilt and shame. This man had been injured, and she was fearing him like he was some kind of monster. Neither feeling did anything to lessen her fear. 

Nadir seemed cheery enough as he hauled out her suitcases and ushered her up to the front door, pulling a key out of his pocket and turning it in the lock. 

“Erik!” he called out. “We’re here!”

For a moment she felt weak-kneed, the urge to simply turn and run flooding her, thousand dollars a week be damned. 

Erik came into the entryway a second later. 

Her eyes widened when she first saw him, and despite Nadir’s warning not to gawk, she couldn’t help how her eyes lingered on his face—and his mask. 

It covered half of his face, maybe a little more, over his forehead and over his nose. It looked to be a hard material with a slight sheen, almost skin tone. If she had glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, she might almost have thought it was part of his face, albeit a very strange face. At the corner of his mouth on the masked side she could see a hint of twisted skin showing through, but that was the only indication that anything was wrong. 

She took in the rest of him next—he was tall, thin, slightly muscled, with dark hair and beautiful hazel eyes. His face was angular, and had it been symmetrical she would have considered him very handsome. His clothes were simple—a white dress shirt tucked into his black slacks, the sleeves rolled to the elbow and two buttons undone. He was wearing a long and think gold chain around his neck, but what was at the end of this chain and tucked into his shirt, she couldn’t tell. He carried an air of unconcern, as though he were bored with everything around him. 

Her face broke into a grin as relief washed over her. This was fine! 

“Erik, may I present to you _Miss Christine Dee_ , Nadir said with a small flourish of his hand. 

Christine shot Nadir a grateful glance, relived that he’d used her preferred name. 

Erik approached, his black leather shoes quiet on the marble floor. 

Her anxiety disappearing but was replaced with a sort of giddiness that everything was fine, and she began to babble. 

“It’s so nice to meet you! I’m so glad to be working for you, I really, really appreciate it. I can’t believe how lucky I am! Nadir said you’re going to buy me a car!” 

His aloof facade was broken as he recoiled slightly at the mention of the car, his brow furrowing as he looked her up and down with disdain. 

“Nadir, can you deal with this?” he addressed him with faint disgust, waving a dismissive hand at Christine before turning and leaving. 

_This_. He’d called her a ‘this’ and then walked off. She blinked back the sting in her eyes, certain she’d just been fired. She’d hadn’t meant to offend him, and maybe bringing up what he was buying for her was somewhat rude, but she really had only wanted to show how appreciative and grateful she was to have had this job. 

But Nadir seemed to pay no mind to the scene that had just unfolded, instead picking up her suitcases and heading towards the staircase in front of them. 

“Bedrooms are on the second floor,” he said as he walked, as though she still had a job here, “and yours is no different.”

Feeling uncertain, she wrapped her arms around herself and began to follow him. She barely took in her surroundings, her mind still replaying the way he’d looked at her. 

“Erik will give you a more detailed tour, I’m sure,” he went on. “But this is your room right here.”

He pushed open a door that was situated in a hallway, and entered the room, placing her suitcases at the foot of the twin sized bed. 

Christine stared at the blank, empty room. There was the bed, small, hemmed in by a simple white metal headboard and footboard and covered in white sheets with a fluffy white comforter covering a single pillow. There was a small white, wooden nightstand next to it. Then was the dresser, then a vanity with a mirror and drawers and a chair. All the furniture was white, as were the walls. The only thing not white was the carpet, which was off-white. Her toes curled in her shoes to think that maybe it was _supposed_ to be white, too. 

“This room is entirely yours to do what you please with it—within reason, of course. Decorate it as you see fit,” he waved a hand at the bare walls. “You have a closet, and a bathroom just over there. The door locks, here is the key—that is the only copy of it, please do not lose it.”

She took the key from him and put it in her pocket. 

“Nadir,” she asked, hesitating. “What—what was that?”

“What was what?” he asked, surprised. 

“With Erik,” she clarified, feeling embarrassed. “He didn’t—“

“Ah,” he said, looking slightly uneasy. “Merely a quirk of his, I suppose. Don’t, ah, don’t bring up the car, perhaps. But don’t worry too much on it, either. He’s moody at times. Nothing to worry about. Speaking of—your car will be here tomorrow. Do you have any color preference?”

Christine looked around her new room. 

“Anything but white.”

He smiled. 

“I’ll try my best. I’ll let you get settled, and then we’ll go pick up Charles. I’ll just be around the corner with Erik.”

Christine unpacked the meager contents of suitcases, putting her clothes on the wire hangers provided in the closet and tucking the rest into the drawers of the dresser. Her handful of makeup compacts went into the drawers of the vanity, and she stared at herself in the mirror a moment. Possessed by a wild thought, she brought her finger up to the mirror and stuck the edge of her nail to the surface, then breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the gap between her nail and its reflection. Two-way mirrors left no gap between the two, or so she’d been told. She didn’t like to think bad things about her boss, but Erik honestly seemed like a guy who’d put a two-way mirror in a girl’s room. She unpacked her toothbrush and shower essentials, checking the bathroom mirror as well and finding it to her approval. The bathroom itself, however, was also blindingly white. 

She stood aimlessly in the middle of her new room a while, wondering about the girl who must have lived here before her, and what she was like, and why she left. She wondered about the day that she, too, would be erased from this room as though she’d never even existed. 

Soon Nadir returned and informed her it was time to pick up Charles. He spent the drive telling her the best ways to avoid traffic, and which streets were where. She tried to pay close attention, knowing she’d have to drive this same path tomorrow. 

When they arrived at the school and Charles came up to the car, Christine found he was very much his father’s son. 

“Hey buddy!” Nadir greeted him. 

“Hey,” Charles said quietly as he slid into the backseat, his dark eyes wide as he stared, unblinking, at Christine. 

She turned around in her seat to smile at him, but he remained expressionless. 

“Charles, this is Christine,” Nadir said, glancing in the rear view mirror. “Remember we said you’d be getting a nanny? This is her.”

Charles’s mouth turned down in a slight frown. 

“Hi Charles! I’m so happy to meet you!”

Charles looked out the window, ignoring her. She turned around in her seat, staring straight ahead, her plastered on smile starting to hurt her mouth. When the end of the week came around, she would have certainly earned her thousand dollars. 

A second child got in the backseat beside Charles. 

“Alright! Ready to go,” Nadir said, and put the car in drive. “How was school, Reza?”

Nadir’s son suffered none of the problems Charles did, apparently, as he was content to chatter almost the entire drive, even to Christine. 

“Charles,” Nadir said after a while, “I have a surprise for you. I talked with your dad and he agreed—today is arcade day!”

Reza cheered enthusiastically and Charles smiled, the most emotion Christine had seen out of him. 

Nadir drove them to arcade, watching as the boys ran up the parking lot and towards the doors. 

“We think this’ll be a good way for you two to get to know each other a little more,” Nadir told Christine softly. 

She nodded. 

“Can I buy the coins?” Reza asked eagerly as they all caught up at the front of the arcade. 

“You both can,” Nadir said, handing each boy a twenty. 

Christine watched as they approached the counter to buy the coins for the game machines. While Reza was excited and seemed like a normal young boy, Charles looked serious and almost like a tiny adult as he handed his money over to the employee. 

Once they each had a large cup full of coins, all four went off to play. 

Christine couldn’t help but smile watching Charles interact with his friend. The only thing that bothered her was how his expression would change when she tried to talk to him. 

While Reza and his father went to play a car racing game, Christine took Charles to the skee ball game. He was quiet as he focused on the mildewed green carpet in front of him, his hands gripping the scuffed ball. 

“Skee ball was always my favorite when I was a kid. I used to play this all the time,” Christine told him, throwing her ball up the machine. It landed in the ten point ring. 

Charles blinked at her score and then turned back to his own lane. He threw his ball. It went in the hundred point ring. 

Christine coughed nervously. 

By the time the arcade trip was over, Christine had managed to wrangle a meager amount of information from him—his favorite color was blue, his favorite subject in school was English, his favorite animal was a toucan. 

Nadir dropped them off in front of Erik’s house, and Charles ran ahead of her to the door. He waited awkwardly for her to unlock it, and his awkwardness made her feel awkward in return. Once inside he immediately went down the hallway and found Erik there. The two went to the kitchen together, Erik sparing only the briefest of glances back at her. 

She’d never felt alone quite like this before. 

She milled about the living room for a little bit, too afraid to go anywhere else. She longed to go to her room, but feared she’d get fired for holing herself away. 

At last Erik entered the room, looking her up and down. She tried her best to maintain eye contact and not let her eyes wander. 

“You need a tour,” he told her, and gestured for her to follow him. 

He showed her to the kitchen, the laundry room, the dining room, and gestured vaguely to his office on the first floor. Upstairs he pointed out Charles’s room, waved a hand towards her room, took her past a door he ignored, and mentioned a second office down the hall. On the way back downstairs he paused by the room he’d skipped over, looking at it longingly. He placed a hand on the heavy wooden door. 

“This room does not exist to you,” he said firmly, and she sucked in a breath at his cold tone. “If I see you so much as try to enter it, you be will be dismissed immediately, do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” she said softly on an exhale. 

They went back downstairs, and she cast a fearful glance at the door as she left. 

“I’m going to cook dinner now,” he told her. “I will not require assistance. You may entertain Charles, if you wish.”

She nodded and scuttled off to the living room. Charles was there, sitting in the couch and flipping through tv channels. 

“Hey buddy,” she said, trying to sound confident. “Watcha doin’?”

“Watchin’ cartoons.”

“Sounds fun. Can I join in?”

She took a confidant step forwards. 

“No,” he said, his eyes trained on the screen. 

She stopped in her tracks. 

“Huh?”

“I’m good.”

Well fuck. 

She cleared her throat. 

“Ah, ok. Well, uh, I’ll just be on my room, okay?”

“Okay.”

In her room she laid on her bed and stared at the blank ceiling. She chanted her weekly pay in her mind, over and over. This was worth it. She could do this. She could do this. She had to. 

Eventually it occurred to her that it must be dinner time. No one came to get her, though. She waited. And waited. And finally she crept downstairs to see, and what she saw from the kitchen door was Erik and Charles already sitting at the dining room table and eating. 

She frowned. She could see the casserole dish cooling on the counter, could see the extra plate and fork sitting out for her next to the dish, but— 

She felt too awkward to go and sit next to them. Why hadn’t they told her dinner was done? Had she done something wrong? Was she not supposed to eat with them? 

She turned to the casserole dish and wiped away a tear. She couldn’t go in there with them. She spooned out some of the cheesy pasta with ground beef onto her plate. She stood there in front of the counter and ate her dinner all alone. Was this her life now? 

As she curled up in her bed that night, she decided her first priority was to decorate her ugly room. The blankness was depressing. 

She got up early the next morning in preparation to take Charles to school. She was excited, at least, to see her new car. 

After she dressed she found both Erik and Charles eating cereal and yogurt at the table. 

“Should I make a lunch for Charles?” she asked from the doorway, feeling too keyed up to eat breakfast. 

“Ah, yes, please,” Erik said. “Just make him a sandwich or something.”

“Crust or no crust?”

Erik blinked, turning to his son. 

“What?” Charles asked softly. 

“Do you want crust on your sandwich?” Erik asked. 

“I don’t care,” Charles mumbled into his yogurt cup. “It doesn’t matter.”

Erik sighed, watching him closely. 

“Leave the crusts on,” Erik told her. 

She nodded and went about making him lunch. Once a ham and cheese sandwich, a small bag of chips, and an orange sliced and placed in a little Tupperware were all gathered together on the counter, Charles came in to throw his empty yogurt cup away. 

“Where’s your lunch box, bud?” Christine asked him. 

He pulled it out of a cabinet and handed it to her. It was blue and had a graphic on the front with a scene from Transformers. She smiled. 

“Aw, Transformers,” she said.

“How do you know about Transformers?” Charles asked, suddenly curious. 

“I used to watch the cartoon!”

“But you’re old.”

She gasped. It hadn’t been said with malice, but _still_. 

“Go get your backpack!” she squeaked. 

Once he was ready, she ushered him out the door, eager to see her car. 

When she saw it, she groaned. It was white. 

There was a note on the windshield, and she plucked it off to read it. 

_My Apologies, Christine! It was the only one they had. But it’s the safest car on the market! Enjoy - Nadir Khan_

The key was already inside, and she decided even an ugly little car was better than no car at all, so she couldn’t complain. 

The drive to school was mostly quiet, though she tried to talk to him. After dropping him off she headed to the nearest Target to find something to cheer up her room. On the drive back home after picking him up, he evaded her questions once more. 

She left him to watch cartoons and started some laundry of her own, washing her new sheets and towels. Erik was nowhere to be found, and when she questioned Charles on this he said his father was working, though he wouldn’t specify on what. 

The following morning went almost the same, though this time she went back to the house and vacuumed the rooms she was allowed in. 

On the way home with Charles, she felt her annoyance growing with how he tried to ignore her. 

“You know, Charles, if we could just talk, you and I could be friends,” she said, frowning at the road in front of her. 

“Probably not,” Charles said. 

“Excuse me?”

“I said I don’t think we could be friends.”

“And why’s that?”

“Cuz you won’t be here long,” he said, almost sad, looking out the side window. 

“What makes you think that?” 

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened. Had he heard his father say something? Was she getting fired? 

“No one stays long. They all leave. Every one.”

“Who leaves?” 

“The nannies. All six of them. They all try to be my friend but they always leave and I never see them again.”

He buried his face in the side of the backrest of his seat. Christine wasn’t sure what to feel. Six? 

“Aw, Charles—I don’t plan on going anywhere, buddy.”

“You don’t plan to go. You’ll just go,” he said forlornly, and he refused to talk the rest of the trip. 

Charles ran off to his room when they got back, but she didn’t have time to process the conversation before Erik came and found her. 

“There is pizza tonight,” he told her awkwardly. “There will be, at least. I’m ordering it an hour.”

“Oh, okay,” she said, blinking. 

“You may... join us. At the table. If you wish it,” he told her, not quite looking at her. 

Evidently he had noticed her absence at the table, after all. 

“Thanks,” she said sheepishly. 

She ended up joining them, but none of them spoke very much at all. It was a strange arrangement, but at least she didn’t feel like she was intruding. 

“Tomorrow is Saturday,” Erik said as she helped him clean up the pizza boxes. “I would like you to go grocery shopping, and I would like you to take Charles with you.”

“Sure!”

By the time she went to bed that night, she felt everything was getting easier. Erik invited her to eat dinner, Charles had talked to her more than he ever had before... 

Except... 

She tossed and turned on her little bed. Something about what he’d said didn’t sit right, even still. 

She knew Nadir had said she could call him any time if she needed anything, but it was nearly midnight. She chewed at her lip, looking at the clock. 

She would have no peace until she knew. 

She climbed out of bed, threw a robe on, took her cellphone with her out to the garden where she knew Erik would not hear her, dialed the number, and waited. 

“Christine?”

“Hey Nadir,” she said softly. “I’m sorry to call you so late. It’s just... I was wondering, why did the last nanny leave?”

“She went off to college,” Nadir said quickly. “Nothing bad happened, I assure you. Why? What did you hear?”

She was quiet for a moment. 

“Is there something for me to hear?”

Nadir didn’t answer. 

“Charles said today that he’s had six nannies,” Christine continued. “That’s... That’s a lot of nannies for a seven year old boy. What happened to them?”

“Nothing happened,” he said, but she could hear the discomfort in his voice. “Erik has been a single parent for three years now. Two girls had the job as a summer only stint, in between semesters at college. One had to back out of the job after something came up with her own family. One got married and left to start her own family.”

She waited for him continue, but he didn’t. 

“And the other two?”

She heard him sigh. 

“Erik is... fiercely protective of Charles. The other two were... let go. One for drinking and driving, and one for frequently arriving late to pick him up from school and taking him to therapy.”

She chewed on her lip. She wanted to believe him, but—

“Okay,” she said at last. 

“Are you having concerns?”

She stared out at the night sky, blinking hard and grinding her teeth. She had so very many concerns, but so very little way to voice them. 

“Can you put me in touch with the others? So I can talk to them?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Christine,” he said slowly. “Besides, the non-disclosure agreement covers this, too.”

“I just—I don’t feel like this is a good situation,” she said, her panic growing. 

“Has something happened?” he asked, concerned. 

She tried to take a steadying breath, her fingers going numb with how they were gripping the phone. 

“No.”

“Has someone contacted you?”

The tone he said it in was soft and gentle, but the reality and implications of _what_ he had just said deeply unsettled her. 

“Is there someone who might contact me?” she whispered. 

Nadir was quiet a long moment, and all she could hear was the pounding of her own heart. 

“Christine, please believe me when I say that you are perfectly safe. I assure you I would not put anyone in harm’s way. Life happens, and people leave jobs for many reasons. There’s no—no conspiracy there. It’s just life. It’s fine. Do you trust me?”

She swallowed hard. 

“Yeah,” she said softly, but she wasn’t sure how true her reply was, or if trusting him was wise. 

“If you have any concerns at all, I want you to contact me, okay? I’ll be truthful, which is more than some people will. If anything comes up, you come to me first, alright?”

“What do you think is going to come up?”

“Hopefully nothing. I’m just saying, if it does—if you get any weird phone calls, any odd emails, anything strange—you come to me. I don’t think anything will happen, but you know people love to gossip. That’s why we have our NDA, right?”

“Right.”

“I’ve know Erik since he was sixteen. That’s more than half of his life. He’s a good man, Christine. I trust him.”

“How did you two meet?”

Nadir coughed and chuckled nervously. 

“That’s for Erik to tell, I believe,” he said, and she could hear the sheepish smile. “But it’s not important. You being safe, Charles being looked after—that’s what important.”

“Okay.”

“Are we good?”

“Yeah I guess so.”

“Goodnight Christine. Please don’t bother Erik with any of this.”

“Will he get mad at me?”

“You’ll get a lecture on drinking and driving,” he laughed. 

She smiled faintly. 

“Thanks, Nadir. Sorry again.”

“It’s okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

She could scarcely sleep a wink that night. His explanation seemed so reasonable, so why did it gnaw at her? It felt like there was another layer underneath of what they’d talked about, one she wasn’t privy to but Nadir seemed to reference all the same. It didn’t make sense to her, not even when it should. 

The next morning she found Erik already awake and in the kitchen, looking half asleep and slightly disgruntled. She was quiet as she approached. Apparently he hadn’t slept well either. 

After rooting around in the fridge and giving its contents a hateful glare, he grabbed one of Charles’s Trix flavored yogurts and a spoon from the drawer. 

“Do you want me to cook something?” Christine offered. 

“No,” he said flatly, and was about to head to the table when he suddenly paused. “Ah, where are my manners—would you like some breakfast?”

“Sure.”

He glanced in the fridge again. 

“Would you prefer _cotton candy_ or _strawberry banana_ on this fine morning?”

“Cotton candy.”

He pulled the yogurt from the fridge and ripped the lid off, sliding the plastic cup down the counter to her. 

“ _Bone Apple Teeth_ ,” he said, an eyebrow raised. 

She wrinkled her nose and she took her yogurt. 

“Did you get that from Charles?”

“Are you implying a thirty-eight year old man can’t possibly have knowledge of internet memes unless they come secondhand from his child?”

She raised her eyebrows and let the subject drop, joining him at the table. 

“Erik?” she asked shyly. 

“Hm?”

“How did you and Nadir meet?”

“He was my court appointed lawyer.”

“What?”

It sounded like a joke, but he looked serious. 

“Yeah. I probably would have gone to prison if not for him.”


End file.
